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"synchronising" poems
I remember that Day when we sat (side by side) On those Stairs (Waiting for our Train) And you bought us Miso Soup (It tasted like Tears) The Sun hit my legs (With all the force of sepia toned Nostalgia) Covering them, bathing them. glorifying. The traffic was the push and pull (To and fro, magnetising, Synchronising) Of waves. Harsh, solid, mechanical waves (Full of the force of Human Atrocity) Japanese Culture was "in" and everything was "kawaii" and sweet (With the underlying disturbance of Sexualisation - *** takes pride of place in our Civilisation) I thought I was eating the sea. (I could see the tiny fish Nibbling us that time we went snorkelling. We saw a Sting Ray that reminded us of Steve Irwin: Danger; Barbed Wire) The Snow-flakes (Fish-flakes) Swirling in the snow globe of my Polystyrene Cup (A new kind of Fish Bowl, A new Exposure) And they swam around and around, Hiding (Cyclical, controlled by Lunar Activity. Natural?) If I stared hard enough I would, no, could see myself (Floating, Filleted) Amongst those Ribbons of Sea **** With each Salty slurp (That tasted of you, of the bitter Crust that Crowns your body in Heat) I expected saltier Bladders to Burst in my Mouth (Drowning me in Poison; Poisson) I imagined the Japanese fisherman Catching Sun-Warmed Sea (In a Polystyrene Cup) The thousands of fish, tiny eyes that Blink, tiny gills that Palpitate - Suffocating in Air (Aboard his boat, that Famed boat: "Daigo Fukuryu Maru") Harvesting Silken Strands of Sea **** that Clung to its Crate (In the same way that his Wife's Freshly washed Hair Twines about her Body. Static, Electric, Alive) We didn't finish the Miso Soup; It tasted too much of the Tears that I Cried.
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
Miso Soup.
I remember that Day when we sat (side by side) On those Stairs (Waiting for our Train) And you bought us Miso Soup (It tasted like Tears) The Sun hit my legs (With all the force of sepia toned Nostalgia) Covering them, bathing them. glorifying. The traffic was the push and pull (To and fro, magnetising, Synchronising) Of waves. Harsh, solid, mechanical waves (Full of the force of Human Atrocity) Japanese Culture was "in" and everything was "kawaii" and sweet (With the underlying disturbance of Sexualisation - *** takes pride of place in our Civilisation) I thought I was eating the sea. (I could see the tiny fish Nibbling us that time we went snorkelling. We saw a Sting Ray that reminded us of Steve Irwin: Danger; Barbed Wire) The Snow-flakes (Fish-flakes) Swirling in the snow globe of my Polystyrene Cup (A new kind of Fish Bowl, A new Exposure) And they swam around and around, Hiding (Cyclical, controlled by Lunar Activity. Natural?) If I stared hard enough I would, no, could see myself (Floating, Filleted) Amongst those Ribbons of Sea **** With each Salty slurp (That tasted of you, of the bitter Crust that Crowns your body in Heat) I expected saltier Bladders to Burst in my Mouth (Drowning me in Poison; Poisson) I imagined the Japanese fisherman Catching Sun-Warmed Sea (In a Polystyrene Cup) The thousands of fish, tiny eyes that Blink, tiny gills that Palpitate - Suffocating in Air (Aboard his boat, that Famed boat: "Daigo Fukuryu Maru") Harvesting Silken Strands of Sea **** that Clung to its Crate (In the same way that his Wife's Freshly washed Hair Twines about her Body. Static, Electric, Alive) We didn't finish the Miso Soup; It tasted too much of the Tears that I Cried.
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39
That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. I take a peek at you through my Wells goggles. I've had a sip too much of my grapefruit ***** and we are the only two people in the bar. I'm light as a feather and with gin nipping at our noses, we let Jack Frost drive the car that night. That's the thing though, sober or not it's all the same game. The wells is just gasoline to ignite our volatile roulette. Drink number two still as pink but this time I'm ******* faster. I'm trying to imagine that the lime at the bottom taste like your lips and I am inching towards your soul. That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. Chemical malfunctions in our past, led us to that moment. Infinite understanding of misunderstanding. I'm light as a feather and I let you drive home, but I never asked if I could stay. I cannot do simple math to save myself from blushing. As people start trickling in I count my breath and catch the eye of a familiar stranger. He was wearing the most arousing scarf. I wish that was your scarf. With Jack Frost waiting in the car and grapefruit in my veins I count the steps synchronising the strides with my heartbeat. **** it's cold. Please let me hold your hand. Pack the bowl, pack the **** pack the one-y Isn't it funny that rhymes with honey. Glossy eyes and records. Your White as fresh snow sheets. I digress. Why do you always make me leave? I could just lie with you, I'd just like to listen to you. We talk, but vaguely. I wish you'd open up to me. I'm sorry. Comfort keeps us swollen, but what we have is frail. Maybe I don't love you, but I don't feel cold to you either. Give me something to think about when you aren't around. You're my friend. Platonic, no depth, just silence. My vocal absence attempts to create space for your stories. What are you about? How did you get here? What happened to make you untrusting of my company? These are these things you think I cannot see. Somewhere in our cloud of smoke is the door to your heart. I don't want it to be mine, I just want it to tell me stories.
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC
Frost, Liquor, **** Repeat
That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. I take a peek at you through my Wells goggles. I've had a sip too much of my grapefruit ***** and we are the only two people in the bar. I'm light as a feather and with gin nipping at our noses, we let Jack Frost drive the car that night. That's the thing though, sober or not it's all the same game. The wells is just gasoline to ignite our volatile roulette. Drink number two still as pink but this time I'm ******* faster. I'm trying to imagine that the lime at the bottom taste like your lips and I am inching towards your soul. That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. Chemical malfunctions in our past, led us to that moment. Infinite understanding of misunderstanding. I'm light as a feather and I let you drive home, but I never asked if I could stay. I cannot do simple math to save myself from blushing. As people start trickling in I count my breath and catch the eye of a familiar stranger. He was wearing the most arousing scarf. I wish that was your scarf. With Jack Frost waiting in the car and grapefruit in my veins I count the steps synchronising the strides with my heartbeat. **** it's cold. Please let me hold your hand. Pack the bowl, pack the **** pack the one-y Isn't it funny that rhymes with honey. Glossy eyes and records. Your White as fresh snow sheets. I digress. Why do you always make me leave? I could just lie with you, I'd just like to listen to you. We talk, but vaguely. I wish you'd open up to me. I'm sorry. Comfort keeps us swollen, but what we have is frail. Maybe I don't love you, but I don't feel cold to you either. Give me something to think about when you aren't around. You're my friend. Platonic, no depth, just silence. My vocal absence attempts to create space for your stories. What are you about? How did you get here? What happened to make you untrusting of my company? These are these things you think I cannot see. Somewhere in our cloud of smoke is the door to your heart. I don't want it to be mine, I just want it to tell me stories.
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31
Telepathy తో తేలికపాటి signals పంపిస్తున్నానే Love frequency తో mapping అయ్యేలా జాగ్రత్త పడతానే మన Energy levels suit  అయ్యేలా transducer పెడతానే Distortion కలిగిందా carrier తోనే ముడిపెడతానే Noise Effect తగ్గేలా Frequency Modulate చేస్తానే Love signals అన్ని digitise  చేసిపరేస్తానే Encryption చేసి మన data నీ Secure mode లో పెడతానే Decode చేసేలా Synchronising Bytes సృష్టిస్తానే మంచిగా డేటా అందేలా High Speed Media నే create చేస్తానే Buffer use చేస్తూ Data Miss అవ్వకుండా Memory లో బంధిస్తానే Files text లతో Final Love Data నీకే అందిస్తానే
0
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 1:23 AM UTC
201. తేలికపాటి signals
She stood there in a world full of glamour, The art deco nature of her edges Synchronising with the slow movements of sound That slurred her into a haze Of small sips of *** and salt that sat on her lips Like an unwelcome guest. She was out of place, a photograph on a window Pained by being made with the wrong grace Of those before. She saw herself in the eyes of those around her, Reflections of those parts she kept hidden In a suitcase beneath her bed Ready to leave behind, Desperate to discard The shadows traced by candlelight. And she'd given up on the fight and heaven For the pocket watch she kept in her heart Had a small inscription Forever engraved in time, "Twenty-seven".
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
The Club
I once upset a group of RSM's when I told them that foot drill was a waste of time. At the time they were bemoaning the introduction of a new rifle, not because of its small caliber, but because of its cumbersome appearance: 'It is not good to drill with' they said. Thus: An Opinion Expressed I was once a soldier smart, Learned to stamp my feet, the art Of calling out 'The Time', the thrill Of perfect, synchronising drill. We did it in the Sunshine glare On what was called parade ground square. It's something that I'll always miss. Those halcyon days, what perfect bliss To march along in line abreast, Our arms swung well up to our chest. Rhythmic, gravelled, crunching feet, With Pipes and Drums, and pagan beat. When marking time we'd raise our knees, Oh what a jape, oh what a wheeze. We'd point the toe, dig in the heel Stay with the marker on the wheel. Saluting dais comes in sight So make your dressing, by the right. Neck to collar and chest out This is what it's all about. Look at us performing fleas Shoulder, order, stand at ease. Perfect creases, looking good Just like all good soldiers should.
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Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 4:07 AM UTC
An Opinion Expressed
The girl never believed in science. When asked why apples fall She answered darling, even apples fall in love. So she baked an apple pie to make her feel grounded, rooted; She wanted to be consumed like the sea engulfs the mountain in a storm, Like a core is mounted by those thirsty for the taste of something left unwholly , vulnerability caressing the bitterness left by someone else's lips, traces of time browning their soft edges. The girl used to lie outstretched on hilltops each night to watch the moon sweep away the stars each morning so the sun could still shine. If she shut her eyes and opened her mind She could hear the moon waning "she'll never be mine" for the sky is a canvas of desire, a constellation of lust that looks different to every lover. Their wish is the same regardless of the star: that gravity will soon become the real reason their hearts begin to sink each time they see her hand in another's. every day the girl shuts her eyes to talk to the sky as if she still believes that's where God lives, as if that is where hope is, and whilst shes on her knees her lovers kiss rises amidst the heat of another girls thighs, synchronising moans as if she has finally found one to call home. maybe she has, but now the girl can't help but think she may drown in this ocean that is empty without its pull to the crash, that her stolen heart is now her lovers buried treasure, buried so deep that shes forgotten she even had it at all. The girl sits at the windows pane knowing why it got its name hoping she will some day navigate her way to the only star she sees, the only name she breathes. If only leaves remembered where they fell from. If only gravity was the reason she fell.
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
Apple skies
The girl never believed in science. When asked why apples fall She answered darling, even apples fall in love. So she baked an apple pie to make her feel grounded, rooted; She wanted to be consumed like the sea engulfs the mountain in a storm, Like a core is mounted by those thirsty for the taste of something left unwholly , vulnerability caressing the bitterness left by someone else's lips, traces of time browning their soft edges. The girl used to lie outstretched on hilltops each night to watch the moon sweep away the stars each morning so the sun could still shine. If she shut her eyes and opened her mind She could hear the moon waning "she'll never be mine" for the sky is a canvas of desire, a constellation of lust that looks different to every lover. Their wish is the same regardless of the star: that gravity will soon become the real reason their hearts begin to sink each time they see her hand in another's. every day the girl shuts her eyes to talk to the sky as if she still believes that's where God lives, as if that is where hope is, and whilst shes on her knees her lovers kiss rises amidst the heat of another girls thighs, synchronising moans as if she has finally found one to call home. maybe she has, but now the girl can't help but think she may drown in this ocean that is empty without its pull to the crash, that her stolen heart is now her lovers buried treasure, buried so deep that shes forgotten she even had it at all. The girl sits at the windows pane knowing why it got its name hoping she will some day navigate her way to the only star she sees, the only name she breathes. If only leaves remembered where they fell from. If only gravity was the reason she fell.
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16
Tuesday, May 9, 2017 // 6:42 PM Five One Seventeen, First kiss, that perfect moment. Fleeting seconds of happiness, of pure enjoyment. Even though you could taste the loneliness that it all lacks commitment, I am still willing to sell my soul for you, Even though I need fulfilment. But for that moment, that one enjoyment, everything was quiet. I saw your lips at work, it was mesmerising. They felt so nice, so hypnotising. They were meant to be, they were synchronising. The rose was rising, Everything was just so appetizing. I did my thing, tantalizing. Five One Seventeen, It’s Five Nine Seventeen, & I’m still fantasizing. But I’m only fantasizing cause you’re love is so tantalizing. I play it over and over in my head, When I zone out, I’m tired Every time I lay in my bed, Every other thought has expired. It’s just you. I love you. You say it too but do you mean it or is this some sort of deja vu ? Pathetic. I am pathetic. trying to be poetic, it’s pathetic. Regardless, I love him For 10 months and 5 days, I’ve been trying to figure it out. Why I’m so in love with him, why I’m so zoned out Simple; It’s quicksand. I’ve fallen, I can’t stand. Hold my hand, I love you. Five One Seventeen, I’ll always love you.
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
5-1-17
Take a step forward Hold my hand Interlacing fingers Glances of sparks Pull me close Hold me in your arms One foot at a time Flow with this melody in us Take the lead Satisfy the rhythm Gazes interlock now Inseparable touch Matching choreography Synchronising heartbeats Twirl me around once So I could fall back into your embrace Your hands in mine Not letting go Keep me by your side So you don't have to feel cold Cuddle closer The music is still playing For this moment Right now This dance Is worth everything
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Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 8:01 AM UTC
Dance with Me
The soft melody flows through the speakers and into our souls Soothing our aching hearts and worrying minds The steady beat synchronising with our own Taking us away into another world Full of pale pastels and soft tapestries And fluffy clouds and green green grass
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
Song 10-6-17